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i remember the day before i broke his heart, and the delicate tangles of his hair when he told me he loved me.
i erupted like the thunderstorm i am, and the last conversation i had with him was a shouting match. every word he said was designed so that i'd feel regret, but i felt nothing.
i'm trying to forget about it, but that would be like shoving the memory into a drawer that is far too small for it
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